Golden
by blondie-converse
Summary: A Tangled!AU fic for Baz and Rainbow's birthday! Multi-chaptered, in progress. T just to be sure.
1. Chapter 1

**_Happy Baz and Rainbow's birthday!_**

**_This is just a little gift to the fandom, the first chapter in this six chaptered story! I will try to post pretty regularly, maybe weekly?_**

**_Anyway, enjoy!_**

**_Disclaimer: The characters belong to the lovely Rainbow Rowell, and the plot belongs to Disney._**

_Long ago in a kingdom ruled by magic, there was a powerful mage named Davy Salisbury. His magic was legend; bright and intense like the sun. He fell in love with the Queen of the land, Lucy, whose magic was soft and sweet like moonlight. The two were mad for each other, and their wedding was the most beautiful the kingdom had ever seen. Before long, Lucy was with child. The pair were ecstatic. Lucy couldn't wait to hold her newborn son, however, Davey had ulterior motives. He planned to use ancient texts and illegal magic to make their child more powerful than the both of them combined. While Lucy was sleeping, he performed a dark ritual on her to grant their unborn son power beyond comprehension. But magic does not come from nothing, and so the Queen's magic was unwillingly absorbed by her child. When the time came for the boy to be born, Queen Lucy had only a few minutes to hold him and utter a name no one but her husband and her best friend could hear before she passed, too weak to hold on. The Queen's advisor -a mage named Natasha - suspected Davey as she investigated Lucy's death and pursued him, only to find Davey in the child's room with a packed bag and travelling coat. He hired a gang of rogue vampires to kill her, and then sent them to her home to rid any evidence she might have. _

_Davey fled from the castle, to a place no one could discover his son._

_The child they now call The Chosen One,_

_And every year on his birthday the kingdom lights lanterns and launches them into the night sky, a beacon to bring the Prince home._

_This is his story,_

_Prince Simon Snow._

Chapter 1: When Will My Life Begin

**Simon**

I roll out of bed and open my eyes blearily. The light filtering through the curtains is a light gold, which means – _Shit, _I've overslept. The Mage will be here soon, and I haven't even prepared breakfast. Hastily pulling on a loose shirt and my oldest jeans, I stumble out into the kitchen and make batter for sour cherry scones as fast as I can. They're in the oven when I hear a shout from my window.

Even though I've lived here all my life, the view from my window still strikes me speechless. I've memorized it all. Between the mountains in every direction is a leafy green canopy, with birds soaring and plunging in the sky above. Jagged peaks in the distance that appear almost blue. And between them – if I squint hard and tilt my head _just _so – I can see the ocean glittering in the distance. I've never been to the ocean. Or anywhere, actually. You see, the Mage doesn't want me to go into the outside world where I could be attacked for my magic. He tells me all about the savages that assault people with powerful magic like my own. Vampires, goblins, numpties - you name it – sometimes it seems like the entire world wants to get me. That's why, when I was still a baby, the Mage brought me to this tower, where I've lived as long as I can remember. Where I'm high enough to see the world, but never allowed to explore it.

I try not to think about it.

"Simon! I'm wasting away down here!"

I sigh and tear my eyes from the view, looking down. The Mage stands at the base of the tower, practically blending into the grass with his whole Robin Hood outfit.

"I can see you Simon, let me up."

"Yes sir."

I place my hand on the rope and push all my magic into it. The rope wraps itself around the Mage's waist like a snake, hoisting him up and up and up until he climbs in through the window.

"Simon my boy! What's in the oven?"

"Sour cherry scones, sir."

"Good, good." He sinks into one of my armchairs and holds out a hand. "Simon, I'm exhausted."

"Of course," I take his hand. I push as much magic as I can into him and he whispers **Finders, keepers. **(It's a spell he created to keep the magic I give him. I'm not sure it would work with anybody else.)

Immediately the air around us crackles and the Mage's eyes light up like two miniature suns. My magic always has this effect on him, it simply pours out of me. The Mage says I'm a cracked cup – a little broken, I suppose – and the crack is what allows me to give him my magic. I've given it to him for, well… my whole life, I guess. It's just too much for me. Sometimes the magic overflows and takes over, which is why I give some away. That's what the Mage says.

"Thank you, Simon. Now, regarding the events I have planned in three days, I- "

"Sir?"

"Simon, it's your _birthday. _Surely you hadn't forgotten?"

I had. (One day just blends into the next up here). Immediately excitement swells in my stomach and I can't help but smile. See, every year on my birthday, these _lights_ fill the sky from just beside the sliver of ocean. You can barely see the cobalt sky between the stars and the twinkling lights as they trickle out into the sky. I can't help but think, well, maybe they're meant…for me.

I've never told the Mage, but one day, when I'm old enough to defend myself, I want to stand in front of the mountains, where I can see the ocean, and watch the lights overhead. Just to know where they come from – just to know what they _are._ Next week I'll be eighteen, and I'm praying that I might be allowed to go. Just for one night.

"Sir, I've been thinking. For my birthday this year, I'll be eighteen."

"Quite."

"Well," I gulp, (audibly, I'm sure) "I was thinking, eighteen is practically an adult. I mean, I'm taller than you are now. And, well… I was hoping you'd let me leave the tower to see the floating lights."

"Simon, you know why you have to stay here…"

"Yes, of course. But like I said, I'll be eighteen, I'll be able to defend myself and – "

"Simon I'm not letting you put yourself in danger to watch a meteor shower you can see perfectly well from up here, where no one can find you!" He grabs my shoulders, hard.

"The answer is no."

My stomach falls.

"But sir, I don't think they _are _meteors, if I could just see – "

"Simon, drop it."

"Yes but sir, just-"

"NO, SIMON!" The Mage pushes me, and I hit the wall, banging my head and making my eyes water.

After a moment the Mage speaks; "Oh, Simon I'm so sorry." He steps closer and helps me into a chair.

"S'fine. Accident." I mumble. I pushed him too far. Guilt claws at my throat and tears scratch at my eyes. I feel sick, but I can't decide if that's disappointment or pain. The oven chimes.

"Scones are done, let's just eat." I say, very quietly.

After breakfast the Mage offers to go up to the farmers on the mountain top and to buy me special sour cherries for my birthday, instead of going to see the lights.

_Meteors._

It means he'll be gone for three days and will come back just after my birthday.

Where I'll watch the lights from my window. Alone. Like always.

I'll try not to think about it.

**(The next day)**

**Baz**

"Oi Baz! You coming?"

Dev and Niall are both doubled over and panting, clearly out of breath.

_Amateurs. _

Adrenalin courses through all our veins and blood thunders in our ears. We did it, we _actually did it. _We stole the little Prince's crown. (It's not like anybody else was using it, the kid's been missing for eighteen years. Only fools think he's coming back)(In fact, the entire cavalry must be fools because they're right behind us in hot pursuit).

I've only stopped to see the view from the gates and over the bridge. It's incredible, a pale bridge leaning over the canal, the forest stretching out in front of me, brimming with possibilities. And if I tilt my head _just _so, I can see the ocean. Behind me is the village, in all its tarnished glory. People shouting, food frying, someone playing a fiddle and the smell of spices mingling with the odour of cattle. I've lived here since my mother was killed. My father wants me to become a lord - a _straight, non-vampire _lord. Unfortunately, I am both queer and dead, and after _years _of nagging and shouting I began to plot my escape.

With this crown, I can buy myself a new life, far away from this sorry excuse for a kingdom. Only one problem;

This crown is for me. _Exclusively._

**Penny**

The three figures in the distance stop running and I bark at my men to advance. The tall criminal with the dark hair- who looks vaguely familiar – pulls out his wand and the other two go flying backwards. He reaches into a satchel by his companion's side and pulls it out, _the crown._

I dig my heels into my horse's side and we pull ahead of my battalion, my eyes set on the thief. He sprints into the wood, dodging around trees and leaping over bushes. The others are far behind us now, it's just me, my horse, and this bastard. Suddenly he turns around and throws a branch at us, and my horse spooks. I land on the ground, my shoulder jarring. Abandoning my horse, I race after him, until we get to a cliff edge.

"Hand it over!" I shout as he paces, cornered.

My sword is brandished and I'm not afraid to use it. The stranger throws his head back and laughs humorlessly, free hand running through his hair. His eyes meet mine, and he cocks one eyebrow. I snarl and lunge for the crown in his hand, but he yanks it back just out of my reach and winks. With a little two fingered salute, he dives off the cliff. I run to the edge just as he lands elegantly in a deep, slow moving river. He waves as he climbs out and takes off running again.

_Bastard._

**Baz**

I run for maybe another ten minutes, exhilaration pushing me faster and further. I allow a rare smile, I'm finally _free. _(Sopping wet, but free).

Just as I round a steep incline, I see a narrow tunnel. It's tall enough for a man, so I enter. I almost ran past it, but even with my vampire strength and adrenalin, I can't run forever. Sooner or later I'm going to have to find a place to wait while the hype dies down.

Before long, I emerge into a picturesque clearing with patches of daisies, a stream and - in the centre – the tallest tower I've ever seen. It perches above the canopy, hidden by mountains and probably a **Nothing to see here **spell, which would explain why I couldn't see it from the other side of the tunnel. Peaked and tiled roof, tall windows, sort of a rustic cottage aesthetic.

It's _perfect_.

A rope dangles from a window - so putting the crown between my teeth – I begin to climb. After what feels like forever, I slide into the window and collapse onto the floor, caressing the crown.

"Alone at last."

But apparently, I'm not alone (just my luck), because standing there, is the most _outrageously_ beautiful boy I've ever laid eyes on.

_Crowley._


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi there! I know I'm supposed to be publishing weekly, ****_however, _****I'm in the midst of procrastinating, so I thought I might upload early! Little note for you: This chapter and the one before it are probably the worst chapters in the story (as you might've noticed, they're a bit slow), but I pinky-swear they'll only get better! **

**Also, thank you thank you thank you to everybody who favourited/followed this story! it means so much, but I'd love to hear what you think, so please rate and review! Virtual hugs for everyone! **

_**And**_** finally, if you're procrastinating like me, might I recommend tbazzsnow's fantastic story, ****_Can't Find My Way Home, _****it's utterly brilliant. tbazzsnow is so talented and their story is fantastic, definitely worth the read.**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Just like before, Rainbow owns the characters and Disney owns the plot. I own nothing.**

Chapter 2: The Smoulder

**Simon**

I point my saucepan (It was closest) at the stranger, heart in my throat and blood pounding in my ears. He's leaning against the wall, legs splayed out in front of him and panting hard. He's my age, I think, with damp dark hair and wet clothes that cling to his body. My eyes wander down to his chest, where I can practically see his muscles through his shirt, which is ripped and dirty beneath an equally battered leather jacket. His eyes are grey and pouty, framed perfectly by the hair that's escaped his ponytail. Every time I notice something new about him, it feels like my face heats up even more.

Probably just nerves.

I think I could take him in a fight, with or without the saucepan. He looks at me, rolls his eyes and smirks, revealing sharp fangs against plump lips.

_Vampire._

**Baz**

Aleister Crowley, I'm living a charmed life. This boy is _gorgeous, _there's no denying it. Standing there holding his saucepan and looking me up and down_. _I didn't think it was possible for a boy to be pretty, but damn. He's got the strongest jawline I've ever seen, and his skin is the lightest shade of gold, dotted with precious little moles, like he rolled in brown sugar and didn't brush it off. He's broad and muscly, but his big blue eyes and thin little pink lips make him look young.

_Crowley, say something. _

"Vampire." He growls.

"Ridiculous." I counter.

"Don't move, or I swear I'll- I'll hit you with…this." He stumbles (it's _adorable,_ really).

"Yeah, okay pretty boy. Put the pan down, you're embarrassing us both. Look I'll just be going, and you can pretend that I was never here, alright?" I go to get up, but he advances and I sit back down.

"_No. _No, _not alright._ You just broke into my home, probably plotting to steal my magic-,"

"Excuse me?"

"Then you called me _pretty-,"_

"Don't let it go to your head."

"You know, the Mage _warned _me about criminals like you."

"Who?"

"And now you want to just get up and go. _I don't think so._"

And then he snarls, _actually snarls, _and speaks again.

"You're staying right here until I can get reinforcements.".

_"__Make. me."_

So he hits me over the head with the saucepan.

**v**

My head feels like it's filled with wool, and it's _pounding_, but I manage to lift my heavy eyelids. The pretty boy is perched on the kitchen counter, spinning his saucepan. I go to lunge at him (kiss him or punch him, I'm not sure yet) but I fall on my face. _Fantastic. _He's tied me to a chair and now I can't get up. _And _my nose took the brunt of the fall. He swears and hoists me back up, then holds a cloth against my nose to staunch the bleeding. I give him my most furious glare and he glares right back.

"You're an _idiot, _you know that?" I snap

He snaps back at me, ("You're the one who managed to overturn a chair you were bloody _tied_ to!") then puts a hand on the back of my neck and tilts my head back, while the other pinches my nose. My heart beats faster and I'm afraid it'll just fly out of my chest if I don't stop this nonsense.

"I'm fine, idiot, just explain me why I'm allegedly trying to _steal your magic, _and was therefore required to be _tied _to a _chair_."

"Umm, well. I just saw your… ah, fangs – also you're pretty pale, no offence - and I kinda assumed… well, you know. I said it before."

It's a miracle that he manages to get through whole sentences at all. I seethe at him.

"Enlighten me."

"You're a- a- vamp- a v- a, _you know,_" he shakes his head and breathes deeply once, clearly frustrated. The air heats up around us, but that could be my imagination.

"Spit it out, freckles."

"They're not-! Ugh, just stop…" he closes his eyes. I smell smoke.

"Come on, moron, some of us have things to do _other _than be tied up in your kitchen!"

"Would you just shut up for _one…minute…_" (Is it just me or is the room getting hotter?)

"No! You should've thought of that before you assaulted me and started accusing me of… well, I don't _know, do I, _because You. Can't. Say. It!"

The boy just growls and flexes his hands like he's trying to hold himself back.

In most situations, this would've either alarmed me or attracted me, but all I am right now is mad. I'm _sick_ of this git stumbling around the point. "USE YOUR WORDS, YOU PRAT!"

"A VAMPIRE!" He roars. All of a sudden, the air around us sparks, and my face burns like I'm standing next to a bonfire. His edges blur and shimmer like a mirage, the only things that aren't hazy are his eyes, (now wide open) and they're smouldering, bluer than ever. "YOU'RE A VAMPIRE AND YOU'VE COME TO TAKE MY MAGIC, JUST LIKE THE MAGE SAID YOU WOULD!"

I panic. This has never happened to me before, but I assume all – this – has something to do with his riled emotions. So I grab his hands as best I can whilst tied to a chair and rub my thumbs along his knuckles. My hands burn where our skin meets, but I'm not sure if that's him or me.

"I'm not taking anything from you, you git, just calm down." He's still breathing heavily and the air is still crackling. "Hey, I don't even know your name! I wouldn't attack someone I don't know for magic I don't know they have, that's ridiculous."

He exhales and smiles a little, meeting my eyes. The air cools down a little, but he still feels really warm.

"You're confusing." He shakes that gorgeous, idiotic head and cools down infinitesimally. "And you say ridiculous a lot."

I scoff and narrow my eyes at him, but there's no venom in it.

"Baz."

"What?"

"My name is Baz. What's yours?"

The heat recedes almost completely and Simon blinks.

"Oh. I'm Simon. Simon Snow."

Simon Snow. I like that.

"Well, _Simon," _I squeeze his hands_ "_I'll just grab my wand," (I can feel it in my back pocket) "and my satchel and leave you be…" I pause and my dread pools in my stomach.

"Snow, where's my satchel?"

**Simon**

Baz. I like that name. It doesn't sound like a terrifying vampire name, anyway.

"Oh. I'm Simon. Simon Snow." Ugh, I sound so _stupid._

The corner of his mouth lifts up just a little.

"Well, _Simon,_" he squeezes my hands. It's nice. (In, like, a platonic-stranger way, of course). If Baz hadn't calmed me down, I probably would've gone off. He continues, "I'll just grab my wand" (Crap, I left it in his pocket) "and my satchel and leave you be…" his gaze hardens as he pauses.

"Snow, where's my satchel?"

I yank my hands back and take a few steps backwards.

"Snow?"

"I hid it."

"Snow, give it back. You don't want to mess with me."

"Because you're a _vampire?_"

"Because I'm a criminal. I _stole_ the crown inside that satchel. And I will do _whatever it takes _to get it back."

He sneers at me threateningly (he's constantly sneering and glaring), but I'm lost in thought. _Whatever it takes. _This is crazy. It's insane. The Mage would have a fit. But I don't want to stay here forever, and Baz is my only chance.

"There's only one way for you to get it back."

"And what might that be?" he spits through gritted teeth.

"Take me to see the lights."

"What lights?"

"The lights that'll appear in a few days, at night. You know, the lights." (Please don't say meteors)

"You mean the lantern thing they do for the prince?"

"Yes! They're lanterns? I knew it wasn't a meteor shower…"

"Look, Snow-"

"Simon." I want him to call me Simon again.

"_Snow. _I have a busy schedule, and I'm not exactly _popular_ in the kingdom at the moment, not to mention my father, so unfortunately -"

"Baz, I don't give half a damn about how popular you are, or how busy your schedule is. This is the offer; take me to the lights and return me safely, and you'll have your crown back. You can leave, no questions asked. Or, you can stay here, tied up in my kitchen until I can have you arrested. Your choice."

I really hope he'll take me. We'll be back before the Mage and no one will be the wiser. He looks like he's weighing the options in his head, before finally giving me an answer.

**Baz**

Snow may just be the most frustrating person I've ever met. One minute he's yelling and oozing magic, then he's stumbling over sentences while I hold his hands, and before long he's threatening and bribing me. But he also has the crown, which is my ticket out of this miserable kingdom. That is of course, if General Bunce doesn't have me locked up before we make it back. Ugh, if only I'd walked _away _from that blasted tunnel. But then Simon puts his hands on the arms of my chair and leans in close, probably trying to intimidate me (However only succeeding in making me want to kiss him even more).

I know I'll end up taking Snow to see the lanterns. I can't abandon the crown or the opportunity to spend three days with him. But I don't have to make it easy for him.

I decide to give him my best glare, the one I call the _smoulder. _We lock eyes, and after quite a few agonizing seconds I give in.

"Fine. I'll take you to see the lanterns."

**Penny**

I climb out of the river, dripping, dirty and seething. No point in going back to the palace without the crown. I'm going to track down that criminal if it's the last thing I do.

**v**

After three hours of walking, I happen upon a 'wanted' poster of the very thief I'm searching for. The palace guard has obviously already interrogated his accomplices - who would've willingly given a description in revenge – and started searching for him immediately. In the drawing, his eyebrow is raised - and he has his trademark cocky sneer - but they got the nose completely wrong. (It's _ginormous._) Apart from that it's unmistakeably him.

The name underneath reads Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. Realization floods back.

_The thief is Lord Grimm's son._

I know Basilton well, met him a couple of times at the palace, in fact.

And I know exactly where I can find him.

**v**

After a couple of hours of walking, I spy a tall man's silhouette creeping through the forest. I draw my sword and wait as he approaches, hiding behind a rock and some bushes. As he turns the corner I leap out and press my the flat of my blade against his neck. It's definitely not Basilton. This man (middle-aged, sandy hair, dressed in an odd Robin Hood-like outfit) gulps uncomfortably, and the sweaty pencil-thin moustache on his lip quivers. I step back and apologize profusely, but the man just grimaces. Suddenly he starts,

"A soldier in the forest! May I ask who you're searching for?" his eyes are wide and panicked, and he's wringing his hands nervously.

"Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, sir. A thief who stole the Prince's crown. I believe he went that way," I point in the direction of the thickest part of the forest, where he just came from.

His pales in terror, and then his face darkens.

"Simon."

He disappears into the darkness.

**Niall**

We crouch in the corner of our cell, cold grey cement against our backs.

"Have you got it?" Dev whispers.

I take my snapped wand and twist the two broken ends together as best I can.

"**Good as new.**"

We share a grin as it vibrates, then glows. Together, we put a hand on the wand and whisper,

"**See 'ya later alligator!"**

And we're gone.

**The Mage**

"Simon! SIMON!"

I tear through the tower, everything is dark. The air is flat, it lacks Simon's scalding magic.

I throw open the curtains, pale and weak sunlight cutting through the shadows like a knife. The light catches something hidden under the stairs. Something sparkling.

It's a crown, peeking out from inside a satchel. My son, Prince Simon Snow's crown.

And believe me, he will _never_ wear it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello again! I was planning to update tomorrow, but then things got unexpectedly busy, so you guys get this chapter a little early! Chapter 3 was simultaneously amazing to write (I love writing Baz just ****_melting_****) and ****_super_**** annoying, I cannot tell you how many times I listened to ****_I've Got A Dream _****to try and get this scene just right! It's been stuck in my head for like... a million years.**

**Thank you to the people who favourited/followed this story, virtual hugs for you! Also, thank you to Sofia who reviewed, that's just a super nice thing to say! Virtual cookies for you! Anyway, here's the next chapter, we're beginning to get somewhere... almost halfway through the story... Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I honestly wish I owned the plot and the characters. However, I am poor and I own nothing. **

Chapters 3: I've Got A Dream

**Baz**

Simon Snow is a catastrophe. We've been walking for hours, and all he's talked about is that his absence is going to break _The Mage's heart _(whoever that is) or – conflictingly - how this little excursion is the best thing that's ever happened to him. If he weren't the most attractive person I'd ever seen, I'd have ditched him a long time ago.

Snow stops talking abruptly.

A bush beside us rustles.

He grabs my hand, breath hitching and eyes widening. Something lunges out at the both of us. Snow yelps and launches into my arms, I only just manage to catch him. (If I wasn't a vampire, I would've collapsed. He's shorter than me, but Crowley, those muscles weigh a lot.)

We look down in silent terror at our assailant – and I laugh. Cackle, even. Uncontrollably. A bunny looks up at us, then hops away again. Simon's face flushes and he bites his lip (which I see in perfect detail, because I'm holding him bridal style and our faces are excruciatingly close.) He lets himself down and shuffles around to face me awkwardly.

"Sorry…I've never been outside before. The Mage told me all sorts of stories about dragons and numpties and vamp- " he coughs awkwardly "Err, merwolves."

I shake my head and look at him closely,

"You've never been outside the tower?"

He blushes even more. (Aleister Crowley)

"No."

Suddenly I get a _brilliant _idea_. _Grinning, I take Snow's hand.

"Say, Snow- "

"_Simon. _You've got to start calling me by my _actual _name."

"_Snow is your na- _You know what? Never mind," I take his other hand and hold them both between us, "_Simon, _are you hungry? I know this _fantastic _place, not far from here, actually!"

Snow's entire face lights up, and he squeezes my hands. (He's so painfully adorable sometimes.) (I almost feel bad.) (Almost.)

"Food?!" he beams

"Sure thing! We should go there!"

Simon lets go of my hands.

"Lead the way!'

**v**

We get there sooner than I expect, Snow practically dragged me the entire way. As we approach the ramshackle building, he grins like Christmas has come early.

"That's it? The _Snuggly Duckling?_" he queries.

"Yes - Why so shocked?"

"I don't know, you just seem like – with your leather jacket, and your tight jeans and your… ah-" he gulps "fangs..."

I snarl but don't object. (Mainly because he noticed I was wearing tight jeans) (He can't be gay, I'm not that lucky.) (What if he is though?)

He continues, "You just don't seem like a very…_Snuggly Duckling _person, that's all."

I smile ominously,

"You'd be surprised."

**Simon**

Baz opens the door for me, and my previous excitement just shrivels up. I turn around to face Baz - he just closes the door behind us, and cocks an eyebrow unnervingly. I face the bar. Dread feels like tar in my throat. The chatter and music stop abruptly as everybody turns to look at us. Fifty or so gaunt pale faces dissect me, fangs popping and tongues licking lips. Baz clears his throat and slings an arm around my waist. (I don't see why, he's at least three inches taller than me, he could've easily put it around my shoulders) (Not that I don't like it) (I do like it, actually) (I'm just not so sure I like Baz at the moment) Baz's other arm opens wide, and he smiles dramatically, pretending not to notice all these people staring at us.

"Welcome Snow, to the Snuggly Duckling, the best vampire bar in the kingdom!"

I shove Baz with my shoulder and try to back away, but he holds me fast.

"Say, Snow. You look a little peaky. Are you alright? Maybe we should just go back to your tower, eh?"

I growl and shake my head. I'm not backing out now.

He narrows his eyes but doesn't stop smiling.

"Well then, let's press on, shall we?"

He forces me forwards and I spy a man with a hook hunched over a full glass of…something dark.

I whisper, "is that blood?"

Baz pries the glass out of the bloke's hands and inspects it closely.

"Well, we're at a _vampire bar, _it's thick, it's red," he sniffs it "it smells like blood," he locks eyes with me and chugs the entire glass without breaking eye contact. Once he finishes he sets it down on the bar and leers, "tastes like blood. _Definitely _blood. That doesn't…_bother you…_does it?"

Everyone in the bar bristles and presses closer. Baz spins me around and feigns concern.

"Have you never been to a vampire bar before, Snow? Maybe the lads here could show you around?" He grins this…unfamiliar smarmy smile at the vampires close to us that I don't like at all. The other patrons are moving so near I can smell the iron tang of blood. I pinch him hard on the thigh and he winces, but pulls me tighter against his waist and forces on this beaming grin that looks _utterly wrong_ on his face.

"Gentlemen, aren't any of you interested in showing us around?"

The vampire whose drink Baz stole disregards me and pushes me onto a barstool, then corners Baz against a wall. Baz's cordial smile evaporates as he stares down the stranger, cool and arrogant as ever. He glances at me fleetingly and nods.

"Snow, I've changed my mind. I think it's time to leave, don't you?"

Before I can respond, the hooked guy grabs Baz by the collar of his expensive black button-up shirt, making the leather jacket slip off his shoulders. The angry mob swirls in closer to him, so close I can barely see him, jeering and yelling. I only catch snippets of shouts:

"Leave the human out of it! It's not him we want!"

"Is this really the Grimm-Pitch brat?"

"It looks like him in the poster! Apart from the nose…"

"How much is he worth again?"

"Which one of you lot saw General Bunce last?"

"Nicodemus, go get her as fast as you can!"

I climb onto a table to see better, and almost get bowled over by a vampire with white-blond hair bolting to the door. From my vantage point, I can see Baz pushed up on top of the table surrounded by about a thousand angry vampires, and the hooked brute holding his throat. They're thrusting posters at him, all trying to get a better look, and not very gently. Panic erupts in my chest – Baz is the only one that knows the way to the lights. I cup my hands around my mouth, shouting as loud as I can.

"OI!"

Every head in the bar swivels around to face me.

Again.

I swallow apprehensively.

"Leave him alone, alright? He may be a criminal, and he's _certainly _a git, but he's my guide. I need him to show me the floating lights! It's been _my dream_ to see them since, well… forever, I guess! Haven't any of you ever had a dream?!"

There's silence.

"I had a dream, once." The burly vampire holding Baz by the throat grunts.

Letting Baz fall onto the floor, he walks over to the piano and taps out lively melody, before bursting into song.

"I'm malicious, mean and scary  
My sneer could curdle dairy  
And violence-wise my hands are not the cleanest  
But despite my evil look and my temper and my hook  
I've always yearned to be a concert pianist

Can't you see me on the stage performing Mozart  
Tickling the ivories till they gleam  
Yep, I'd rather be called deadly for my killer show-tune medley  
'Cause way down deep inside I've got a dream!"

The crowd roars and claps him on the back, singing the chorus.

"He's got a dream… He's got a dream…"

**Baz**

While I'm waiting for these oafs to finish their damn song, I stare at Snow. (Excessively.) The vampires are all singing and laughing raucously as he bellows out the drinking song with them. They've been singing for about five minutes now, and I haven't caught a single word. All I can think about is Snow's smile…his eyes…his arms…his moles…

Grey hands grab me under my arms and hoist me onto the bar.

"C'mon then, Grimm-Pitch, do you have a dream?"

Ugh. I really don't need this right now. My plan vampire bar intimidation tactics have failed, I'm stuck with the most beautiful idiot I've ever seen and I can't kiss him, _and _I still have no idea where said idiot has hidden my crown. The last thing I want to do is sing. I sneer at them all, until they point their weapons at me. Forced into song. _Wonderful._ If I have to sing, I'm going to make it the most sarcastic verse in this entire bleeding song.

"I've got a dream, no really

A place where I'm not merely

A screw - up son who disappoints his father

Somewhere far away from here, with someone to hold me dear

Knowing finally why and who murdered my mother."

The music dies abruptly and I drop my gaze. I shouldn't have said that. A young-looking vampire pats my back and mumbles "Dude, that's heavy."

I march out of the bar and slam the door behind me as the melody starts again.

**The Mage**

The dark-haired boy with the expensive clothes comes storming out of the tavern and slumps against a wall, head in his hands. From my position behind the foliage, he'd never see me coming. Not until it was too late. The risk of Simon finding out about his royal blood would die with this common criminal. I unsheathe my dagger and get ready to attack…

when a voice floats out of the building's windows.

**Simon**

The lads clap in time as I get ready for my turn. They're not a bad lot, really. I always thought vampires were supposed to look aristocratic and tragically beautiful. (Like Baz) (Attractive tosser.)

A middle-aged bloke next to me goes to take sip of his drink but misses and sloshes it over himself. A burly guy next to me offers me a pink cupcake. A mammoth of a vampire next to me arranges tiny ceramic unicorns on the counter. Definitely not as scary or as handsome as Baz.

I take a breath and throw my arms around my neighbour's shoulders, ready to belt out my verse.

"I've got a dream, I've got a dream…"

**Penny**

_"__I just want to see the floating lanterns gleam…"_

I can hear the pub from here. He's not the one singing, but he's there.

_I'm coming, Basilton._

**The Mage**

_"__And with every passing hour, I'm so glad I left my tower!" _

Shock almost causes me to drop he dagger. After everything I've done for him? The home I built him…he's willing to throw it all away. For a chance to see some pathetic lanterns with a common thief?

When I find him, I'll never let him see the light of day again. I gave him his power, he _belongs_ to me.

But before I can do anything, two pairs of thundering footsteps echo against the hard, dusty road.

A frosty haired vampire and a purple haired guard race towards the tavern.

**Niall**

"**Scooby-Dooby-Doo, where are you?**" Dev and I both think of Baz. It's time for revenge.

We're transported to a little forest road – where in front of us – a palace guard and a blond man are racing towards a boy dressed in black, slumped gracefully against a tavern wall.

_"…__because like all you lovely folks I've got a dream!"_

**Baz**

"BASILTON!"

Five people say my name at once.

One blonde stranger,

And the three people I want to see least.

_Crowley._

**Simon**

Baz appears out of nowhere and yanks me behind the counter. I've never seen him look so petrified.

"Simon, we've got to go. Now."


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi! My friend told me I "Needed to update ****_today!" _****so here it is. This is one of the fluffiest chapters in this whole story - I warned you. OOOH, anyone who catches my Sherlock reference in this chapter gets a virtual hug/cookie, so keep an eye out. **

**Thank you (once again) to everybody who favourited/followed this story and/or me! The next chapter is for you ;) Also, big thank you too freehugs9 (you're such an amazing author, I love ****_Your Touch) _****for the review! It means so much to get feedback from a writer you really respect! **

**Finally, I'm absolutely exhausted, so this has been edited as best it can be right now. Sorry for any mistakes that I've overlooked. Anyways,**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Simon, Baz, Penny, The Mage, Niall, Dev, Niccy, or any other characters that appear in this story. Nor do I own the plot. **

Chapter 4: Everyone Here Doesn't Like Me

**Simon**

Baz and I hide behind the counter, shoulder to shoulder, when the door bursts open. I peer around the side of the counter. A curvy girl with purple hair in some sort of uniform kicks open the door and scans the room, while the frosty-haired bloke who almost knocked me over chats with two agitated guys out the front. I think I can hear Baz's heartbeat racing from here. I take his hand and he grimaces tightly.

Something nudges my shoulder so I look up. My hooked pianist friend flips a lever on the bar top, silently revealing a passageway.

"Go," he mutters, "live your dream."

"I will." Baz whispers.

"I was talking to Curly, mate. You need to get some help."

Baz just sneers and pulls me down the ramp. I manage to mouth a quick _Thank you._

**Niall**

Dev and I talk with some Nicodemus fellow while we wait for the General to leave. If we get caught again, we'll be locked up for life. Hanged, even.

_All because of Baz._

Revenge is sweet.

**The Mage**

The palace soldier strides into the tavern while the two thugs and the vampire hang back. Things could get dangerous, and I cannot be recognized.

I'll wait.

**Penny**

The vampires all shield their eyes and leer at me. Each ashen face looks atrociously similar. Trust Basilton bloody Grimm-Pitch to pick the perfect hiding spot. Finally, I see a hooked man quietly trying to right a flipped lever. Without a moment's hesitation I re-flip the switch and a ramp opens up behind the countertop.

_Gotcha._

**Simon**

Baz lets go of my hand once we're in the tunnel. It's bloody dark in here, I wish he'd take it again, just to feel less alone.

"Is that soldier lady after you? Is that why we're in this tunnel? Running away?" I whisper. It sounds like a shout in the suffocating silence.

"No, you prat," Baz hisses back, "we're in this tunnel for the breathtaking scenery."

Sarcastic git.

"Did you see those two blokes outside? They didn't look like vampires."

Baz inhales.

"Two blokes? What did they look like?"

"Well, I was a little preoccupied hiding behind a bar with you, but they looked about our age. The short one had red hair and the other one was dark-skinned and mean-looking. Do you know them?"

Baz swears. "Unfortunately."

"They're not guards too, are they?"

"Quite the contrary. We were on the run together until they got caught."

"Why're they here, then?"

He hesitates.

"Must've escaped."

"You _know _that's not what I meant. If they did escape, why would they come to a _vampire bar? _

There's another awkward silence.

"I _may_ have stunned them, stole the crown and left them for the guards."

"Baz!"

I never thought he could be that callous. It's a little badass.

"They were just accessories. Nothing personal."

Accessories…

"Baz, _I'm _not just an accessory, am I?"

He snorts.

"As if. I couldn't leave you now, even if I wanted to." He coughs. "Because of the crown, of course. You know where the crown is, and I need that, so."

"Ah."

A rock hits Baz on the head and then clatters to the stone floor. I hear it rattle – ever so slightly. Baz takes my arm and runs. I hear it too. Pounding footsteps, approaching quickly. Someone has found us.

Heart in my throat, I run with Baz, only stopping when I emerge into sunlight next to him. We both shield our eyes from the blinding light and take in the view. A valley winds its way out in front of us. Behind the ledge we're standing on is a big wooden wall with – what I assume – is water dribbling through the cracks in the planks. I ask Baz what it is.

"A dam. It's a- "

He's interrupted by someone arriving at the mouth of the passage.

"Lord Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch," the purple-haired girl snarls, pulling out a sword, "I've been waiting a long time for this."

_Lord _Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch? That's his _real name? _And I thought he couldn't get any more posh.

Beneath us, the two blokes from the bar burst out into the open, at the foot of our ledge.

Baz swears again.

**Baz**

Great. For the moment, everyone in here, doesn't like me.

Weaponless, I grab for my wand instead. Snow stares pointedly at a piece of rope affixed to one of the wooden tracks leading to the dam. Before Bunce realizes what's going on, I spell the rope towards me, (**Come to Papa!**) wrap my arms around Snow, take the rope and swing. Bunce tries to slash at us but misses by a barely a centimetre. Wind whips through our hair, and I get a mouthful of bronze curls. Snow hollers and wraps his arms around my neck even tighter. I grunt. (Have I mentioned how much Snow's gorgeous muscles weigh?) However, we're faced with a new set of problems. Approaching alarmingly fast are the smug faces of my former associates, swords raised. I only just manage to **Float like a butterfly **us in time.

Once we reach the ground I drop Snow (who huffs indignantly when he lands on his rear) and we take off sprinting with Dev and Niall hot on our heels. Over my shoulder, I cast a **Fire Away! **at our pursuers, but I miss and hit the dam instead.

It erupts.

Roaring.

Water rushes at us, closer and closer and closer.

_Crowley_.

**Simon**

Baz broke the dam. _How the hell did he break the dam? _All the people chasing us have been swept away by now. It's just Baz and I running as fast as we can from the wall of water threatening to drown us. _I can't even swim._

Merlin, leaving the tower was a _terrible _idea.

Up ahead I spot another passage, and I pull Baz towards it. But as we enter, my stomach plummets.

Because it's not a passage at all.

It's a cave.

**Baz**

We turn to run back out, but one of the stone pillars in the valley falls directly in front of the entrance, water spraying out from a tiny gap near the roof.

_It's lapping at our feet. _

We're doomed. I turn to Snow. At least my last moments will be with him. A tear trickles down his beautiful tawny cheek. He swallows a sob.

"I'm sorry."

_The water rises to our ankles. _

I smile slightly at him, trying to memorize every last one of his moles before I go.

"Don't be."

He does sob this time, and leans his head into my chest. I wrap my arms around him.

I can't help it, I cry too.

_We feel it at our knees._

I think this is the way I want to go. The way I want to end my miserable existence. Standing here, with Snow in my arms. Ever since I met him, I knew he was beautiful.

But I don't know I loved him until now.

_Aleister Crowley._

I'm in love with him.

I'm hopelessly in love with Simon Snow.

_It's up to our waists._

My shirt is already soaked with Snow's tears.

"Can you spell us away from here?" he whimpers. I try. I really do. But there's so much panic, so much fear that it's suffocating all my magic. Like trying to light a match in an ocean.

"I can't. I'm not calm enough. I'm so sorry."

Suddenly he breaks away from me and dives into the water. I pull him back up.

"It's no use. My stupid vampire eyesight would've seen an exit already."

He gapes at me.

"You really are a vampire, then?"

Shit.

"Yes... If we're about to die, I figured you should know. No regrets and all that."

Snow's expression is unreadable.

"That doesn't scare you, does it?"

Snow shrugs.

"What does it matter, anyway? We're about to die. Plus, it was pretty obvious when you chugged that whole mug of blood."

I laugh deliriously.

"I guess it was."

_It swirls at our shoulders. _

Confessions, confessions, confessions.

I can't die without telling Snow everything. Or as much as I can, anyway.

"Simon, there's something I need to tell you."

He turns away from me and tries to scrape at the walls with his fingernails.

"Snow, please."

He looks at me over his shoulder, hands feebly scraping the walls.

"I'm not a hardened criminal. I'm just a teenage runaway trying to start a new life, somewhere far away from my father, and the nobility, and all the _pressure - constant_ pressure - to find a wealthy _wife _and start a family, but I _can't _because I'm – I'm…"

Snow stares at me with those bluer than blue eyes, and even though I'm a nervous wreck (probably due to the water threatening to drown us both) I swallow and blurt out,

"Simon, I'm gay."

**Simon**

_The water reaches our necks._

Baz looked so terrified, saying he was 'gay'. Almost as terrified as me when I realised that I couldn't just go off and save us, we'd be crushed in the debris. Almost as terrified as when he couldn't find his magic. _Magic. _If he can't find his, and I can't go off, we'll have to find a middle ground. I'll give him some of my magic. Not to keep, we don't have enough time to experiment with the Mage's spell, but enough of a jolt to get us out of here.

"Baz! I-"

"Simon, I need to tell you… Simon I'm in lo–"

"BAZ, I CAN GIVE YOU MY MAGIC!"

"…what?"

"Baz, just take my hands and," I look at him pleadingly "save us."

I push all the magic I can into him, and he shudders violently.

_It's at our chins. _

I take a deep breath.

Baz roars,

"**Time to go!**"

**The Mage**

The two thugs come stumbling out of the tavern soaked to the bone.

"I'll kill him! I'll kill Basilton! I'll take the crown and then I'll strangle him with my _bare _hands!"

The tall dark one shouts, while his red-headed friend growls and spins a dagger.

They want revenge on the Grimm-Pitch brat – what a perfect coincidence.

"Boys!"

They look up.

"Perhaps you could quit snapping and shouting like savages and _focus _for a moment." I spin the crown on my finger.

They lunge towards me, but I spell them back. (**Personal bubble!**)

"If you want the crown so badly, have it!" I throw it at their feet and they squabble over it like wild dogs.

"If that's all you want, I'll be on my way then. Unless, of course, you want something _more _valuable."

They stare at each other, and then me.

"What is it?"

"It's priceless. _And, _it comes with revenge on _Basilton Grimm-Pitch."_

**Simon**

I burst to the surface and gasp in long, heaving breaths. I don't think I've ever been more appreciative of oxygen. For a moment there, I didn't think I'd ever breathe again. In spite of it all, I grin.

"We're alive!"

Baz stops panting besides me and looks down at his shirt.

"Great," he mutters, rolling his eyes, "I'm wet _again_, _and_ I've lost my jacket."

Then he turns to me.

"What the hell was that back there? You could've just…charged me up that entire time? And I wouldn't've had to bloody _come out _to you, Crowley – the things I almost said…"

He pushes himself out of the stream and onto the bank. We've ended up in some little forest clearing. Following him, I jump out and sit next to him on a log.

"Baz, what does _gay _mean?"

He groans and closes his eyes.

"Right, you've never been out of the tower. _Well, _Snow, most people in this kingdom firmly believe that all men fall in love with women and vice versa, you following?"

I roll my eyes. "Duh. I'm not stupid."

"I wonder, sometimes."

"Hey!"

"Anyway, some people – me, for example – don't. We fall in love with people of our own gender. Or both genders. Sometimes no genders – look, it can be a bit complicated. I like men. One man – _boy, _really – in particular."

**Baz**

Snow doesn't even bat an eyelid.

"Do you love him?"

I gulp and look at him in all his dripping glory. His wet hair looks like chocolate (it's usually bronze), half of it plastered to his forehead. In the setting sunlight his skin is golden, brown sugar moles strewn across him like constellations. I've seen diamonds less stunning than his eyes, and when he smiles they crinkle at the corners. His lips are thin and pink, but they're the prettiest I've ever seen. When he does that little grin to the side, he has this dimple on his left cheek that appears, like a reward for making him smile. His shoulders are wide and toned and freckled, and I've never met anyone who shrugs as much as he does. He trips and stumbles over words when he's agitated, but when he's really passionate about something, the words just pour out of his mouth with so much excitement that it makes me slightly giddy. _He _makes me slightly giddy. Everyone around him is pulled into his orbit, like he's the bloody sun and we're all lost in him. I know I haven't known him long, but it feels like forever. I know him off by heart. And all I want is to know more.

"Yes, Snow. I love him so much it hurts."

"How's that?"

I grimace.

"I don't think he'll ever love me back."

**Simon**

"Sounds like a bit of a tosser, then, really."

Baz's lips quirk up just a little. I don't know how someone could _not _like Baz. Sure, he's a bit of a prat sometimes, and he can be _really _arrogant, but he's an alright bloke. (Most of the time.) He's bloody attractive besides, with his cheekbones and tight clothes, trying to make himself look cool. (He does look cool too, that's the most unfair part.) He looks pouty and brooding when he's thinking, but when he grins, he grins _wickedly. _I'm not sure if it's his fangs, or just the fact that he's a teenage runaway-thief, but his grins are _made_ of trouble. And _don't_ even get me started on his hair. It's long (for a bloke) and straight, black as coals. He's such a princess, I swear he does a million different things with it. (Buns, ponytails, slicked back.) I think it looks best when it's just out, like it is now. Falling in a lazy wave over his forehead and framing his face, casting light shadows across his sharp cheeks. He's bloody flawless.

So yeah, I don't get why a guy wouldn't like Baz. If someone like Baz loved me, I'd be popping the question as soon as I could! (Obviously not _Baz.) _(That's absurd.)

Baz shakes his head.

"I need to feed. Find some dry twigs while I'm gone so we can make a campfire."

"Here," I take his hands and he narrows his eyes at me. I push a little bit of my magic into him, and whisper "**Finders, keepers.**"

Before I can finish, he yanks his hands away and hisses through gritted teeth.

"What're you _doing?_"

"Giving you some of my magic to keep, so you can use it to call an animal!"

"Don't." he shakes his head. "I'm okay with borrowing some of your magic, but keeping it is like stealing it. It's not right."

"And you're not up to _stealing, are you_?"

He sneers and lets me loan him some of my magic to call a deer. As he stalks off into the forest he turns around.

"It's cool, though. Your _godlike _displays of magic."

(Baz is capable of giving compliments?)

"Anytime."

**v**

The sun has gone down and Baz still hasn't come back. I've gathered enough twigs to start a small fire when someone speaks behind me.

"Simon, _what are you doing here?_"

The Mage.

"Sir, I was just…seeing… the um. Seeing the li- the lights. With someone."

"Ah yes, the wanted criminal. I'm so proud. Now come along home, before that _scum _returns. Everything can go back to the way it was, up in your tower –"

"No."

The Mage's brow furrows and he leers at me. This isn't good, I've made him _really _angry. He's going to hit me again, I know it. It's all my _fault._

"Oh. I see how it is." He steps closer and closer. "Simon knows best? Oh, if you're so sure now, go ahead and give him _this!"_

He thrusts the satchel at my chest and I stumble backwards. This is bad, if I've made the Mage this angry, he could hurt Baz.

"This is why he's here! Don't let him deceive you! Give it to him, watch, you'll see! Trust me, Simon," he snaps his fingers, "that's how fast he'll leave you! I won't say I told you so!"

He backs away and spits onto the ground at my feet,

"If he's lying, don't come crying, remember – I know best!"

And then he disappears into a swirling cloud of shadows and moonlight. My lip quivers.

I barely have time to spell the satchel invisible (**Nothing to see here!**) when Baz comes sauntering out of the trees.

"So, I was thinking, is using your magic going to give me any super powers? Because I'm not sure I can handle that _on top _of being a vampire and- Snow? Are you alright?"

I turn around and smile at him. He frowns.

"I'm fine! Let's just get this fire going, shall we?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Time for some McFluff. This one is for my friend who's getting her braces on today (hope this eases the pain!), my three buddies who have now read chapter 61,****(you're welcome, guys) and everyone who's been reading along!**

**Hope this makes Tuesday a little more bearable, lovelies!**

**Disclaimer: If you recognise any lines, characters or plot points, they either belong to Disney or Rainbow Rowell.**

Chapter 4: At Last I see the Light

**Baz**

_Simon spins me around on the dancefloor. A million fireflies light up the air around us, each one of them casting a golden glow that illuminates his every feature. We twirl and laugh, until he dips me and whispers, _

_"__Baz, the truth is, I'm desperately in love with you."_

_I blush and kiss him softly on the cheek._

_"__Sssh, Snow. You're embarrassing me!"_

_And then we're dancing again, getting closer and closer, warmer and warmer, but something keeps pulling my ankle, trying to tear me from the safe embrace of Snow's strong arms._

_"__Stop it!" I hiss, trying to claw my way back to Snow. "Get off me!" I scratch at the things binding my ankle._

_Then Simon walks straight over and slaps me across the face…_

SMACK.

Aleister _Crowley_.

My cheek feels like it's on fire and my eyes are watering. Slowly, my eyes adjust to the early morning sunlight, and I recognise my attacker.

"BUNCE!"

The general has me by the ankle, trying to pull me out of the clearing. I shake off her grip easily and confront her. I'm at least four inches taller than she is, but she's still fairly intimidating. (Not that I'd _ever_ tell her that.)

"Nice dream?" she snarls, "You about clawed my fingers off, drooling and muttering about snow or whatever. Seriously, you should be thanking your lucky stars that I lost my ring in that wave or you'd already be hanged for treason, theft, obstruction of the law _and _assaulting a member of the royal guard!"

Beside us, Snow rolls over and opens one eye.

"Wha's goin on, Baz?"

I flop around and glare, cheek still smarting and still being held by my ankle.

"Well, _Snow, _while you were dozing off, this moron tried to _kidnap_ me so I could be hanged for my - apparently _numerous - _crimes _and_ while I wouldn't be averse to that, it _would _mean you'd have to find a new guide. _So, _in an effort to be efficient, I suggest you get off your backside and _do_ something!"

"Bloody hell, Baz. I only just woke up, give me a minute."

"Ridiculous." I sigh. (He smirks…) (Damn, I said ridiculous again.)

After a couple of awkward seconds (Me on my back, Bunce holding my ankle, both of us staring impatiently at a bleary-eyed Simon) Snow starts like he's been poked with a cattle prod.

"Wait, _hanged?"_ he takes Bunce by the shoulders - and she rests a free hand on the handle of her blade, "No, no _please _don't. Look, I've been dreaming about today my _whole life, finally _seeing the lights and where they come from. And I _need _Baz to be my guide. Just for one more day, then you can chase each other to your heart's content…preferably without the hanging."

Bunce sizes him up, and he makes big puppy eyes at her. (Let me tell you, I just about imploded.) (Bunce must have nerves of steel to resist those eyes.)

"Plus, it's also…_kinda _my birthday."

After a long moment, Bunce sighs mightily and agrees to let me go for _one day. _On one condition. I take Snow by the arm and hiss into his ear.

"We're not letting her bloody _escort _us into town!"

Snow pushes me away by the shoulder.

"We don't have a choice. Plus, I'm not exactly _excited _about spending the day with the two of you either! Ever since she woke you up, you've been in a foul mood, pretending to _want _to be hanged and all. I saved your bloody arse!"

I shove him back.

"_Crowley_, Snow. Maybe I _wasn't _pretending. Ever thought of that, genius?"

"OOOOOOOOH."

We both turn to look at Bunce (who has instructed Snow to call her Penny) and gape at her.

"_THAT'S _who dream - Snow is! It all makes sense now. Pretty obvious, actually."

"What are you on about now, Bunce?" I snap. And then I remember.

_'__You about clawed my fingers off, drooling and muttering about snow or whatever.'_

"Bunce! No! I mean…No! Of course not!"

She just winks at me, the witch.

Snow looks utterly perplexed.

"Is he plotting and complaining about me even in his sleep?"

Penny winks again.

"Something like that."

I groan and flip my hair behind my shoulder.

"Let's just set off, shall we?"

**Simon**

We journey through the forest for hours, endless hues of green and brown passing and blending with each step. Sun slants down through the gaps between leaves to create a bright patchwork on the ground. As we walk, we talk. I learn all about Penny and her family. They come from a long line of palace servants. Her mother was friends with the Queen, and the two of them would spend ages in the library together. Penny has one older brother, also a high-ranking palace guard, and heaps of younger siblings who annoy her to no end. Baz tells me a bit about himself, too. He had three younger half-sisters, when he used to live with his father, stepmother and aunt. His mother died defending the lost prince when he was barely a few months old.

"Who is this lost prince chap anyway?" I query.

"Seriously Snow?" Baz counters.

"_Simon._ You've called me Simon before, it wouldn't kill you to call me by my actual name again."

Baz rolls his eyes dramatically.

"_Snow,_" (I growl at him) "The lost prince is perhaps the most important legend in our kingdom's history. Years ago, Queen Lucy married Davey Salisbury, an absolute maniac, but brilliantly powerful. Anyway, they got married and the Queen got pregnant, and everything was just rosy, until the baby was born and Queen Lucy passed away not half an hour later. The strange part was that the baby was coming along easily until the middle of the second trimester. People think Davey did some shady rituals in secret, to make the baby even more powerful than he was. It's rumoured that Queen Lucy only had time to whisper a name to her husband and her closest friend, then hold her child once before she passed away from exhaustion. When they started to investigate, they found both the baby and Davey were long gone, and my mother…" he coughs "…my mother was found dead. Vampires. She killed herself after being bitten, but not before she'd been drained of half her blood. I was barely two."

I try to take Baz's hand, but he snatches it away and sneers. I try not to feel hurt.

Penny exclaims loudly,

"But that's not even the best part! When Queen Lucy died, they found a piece of paper with a snowflake drawn on it in her hand. No one knows why it was there, or what it means, but Queen Lucy was holding it to her lips when she took her last breath. It's fascinating!"

"It's spooky is what it is." I mutter.

"Anyway," Baz continues "every year they have a big festival and release lanterns to try and help the prince find his way home. It's useless if you ask me, I think he's long dead. However, the new Queen still holds the festival annually."

"New Queen?"

"The Prince's godmother, Queen Ebb. She's acting as Queen until her godson returns and claims his rightful place as King." Penny responds.

We continue talking until we reach a huge sandstone bridge at about midday.

**Baz**

Snow's jaw drops. He beams, and I swear the sun only shines to make him even brighter. He hops and hugs Penny and me.

"We made it! _We're here!" _

Wonder fills his eyes and he grabs both our hands, pulling us forward. I _just _manage to rip one of my wanted posters (they still can't get my nose right!) off the wall and stuff it into my pocket.

As much as I despised the kingdom…I don't mind it now. Every time Snow sees something new he gasps and shows Bunce and I. I should find it irritating, but I don't. All these little things that I'd taken for granted my whole life…Snow makes them seem wonderful. It's like seeing the kingdom for the first time. Houses and stone lanes wind around the central mountain, leading up to Watford palace. The castle looks like it's on fire in the blazing sun, every window reflecting the golden light, and tall spires that graze the sapphire blue sky. Everywhere you look, the kingdom is _moving._ People mingling, laughing, dancing.

The town's centre is just visible from where we are on the bridge, and I can already see the festival beginning. Murals of snowflakes decorate every building in every colour you can imagine. Banners illustrated similarly are hung in intervals along the bridge and across the entrance into the town. Snow stops and the three of us stand in front of the castle in awe. I hear Simon's breath hitch, and through our joined hands I feel his pulse quicken.

I've already made up my mind, I'm going to make today the best day of his life.

**Simon**

Baz squeezes my hand and I squeeze back. He looks outrageously handsome in his jeans and button-up shirt now that he's rolled the sleeves back to his elbows. (Tosser. As if he didn't already look flawless. I swear I look like a walking disaster next to him.) His usually pouty lips quirk up in a small, rare, _genuine _smile, and his slate grey eyes glimmer. Penny claps me on the shoulder, winks conspicuously at Baz (who glares) then tells us she'll meet us at the docks later. She's going to spend the rest of the day with her family. That leaves Baz and I together.

"C'mon!" I pull him into town. Immediately we're greeted by fiddle music and the smell of something spicy cooking.

Today is going to be the best day of my life.

**v**

The first thing Baz and I do is get something called henna. A bunch of giggling little kids draw snowflake designs on my hands with a brown liquid that hardens and falls off, leaving the drawings etched on my skin. (Baz assures me they'll fade away.) (I don't mind, I love them.)

I drag him around the market and Baz gets us as much food as I can eat. (Which is a lot). He even pays for _most_ of it. Curries, chocolate, salt and vinegar chips, shepherd's pie, I've never had such amazing food in my life. (I force him to go to the butcher and get some pig's blood. I won't have him fainting all over me)

As we wait in line to buy scones, I inspect a building (Baz said it was the White Chapel) and marvel at its stained-glass windows. They depict a beautiful, muscular woman with the longest blonde hair I've ever seen holding a baby with startling blue eyes. The snowflake symbol is embroidered on all their robes and emblazoned on their crowns. As the sunlight filters through the glass, the surrounding square looks like a kaleidoscope of blues, greens, reds, oranges and purples. A little girl places a flower crown on the sidewalk beneath the mural.

"It's for the lost prince."

**v**

We keep exploring the festival and find a kid selling snowflake emblazoned flags. Baz buys me a blue one with a bronze snowflake in the middle.

"Happy birthday."

**v**

In the town's centre people are painting the ground with snowflakes the colour of the sunset. Baz critiques my colour choice but ultimately helps me contribute to the mural. When we're done, the setting sun brings out the colours in the artwork even more, and the shapes all twist wonderfully, like there's a sunset snow storm caught in the warm cobblestones.

**v**

About midday, we walk around a corner in the markets and I spot two guards strolling past. I pull Baz into a doorway just in time, savouring the look on his face as he accidentally jams his face into his cupcake. I can't help it, I laugh uncontrollably – he's just scowling _so_ mutinously under this pretty layer of baby blue frosting.

And after a few seconds Baz gives me a very reluctant, very pretty smile.

**v**

Next, he takes me to library. We spend an hour reading as many books as Baz can find (which is a lot, mostly folk stories and fairy tales) as I listen to him explain all of them for me. He reads them aloud emphatically and makes cynical comments when the characters do something stupid, which is almost always. We agree that our favourite one is called Tangled, about a girl named Rapunzel who's a hidden princess, who falls in love with a conman on her travels, and then saves him with her magic tears. Baz says the creepy villain lady reminds him of his aunt when she'll be middle-aged.

**v**

At twilight a band starts to play and a girl around my age takes me by the hand and leads me into the square. She's tall and fair and very pretty. She giggles as I try to learn the complicated dance she's pulled me into. I learn her name is Agatha.

After about 15 minutes of very awkward dancing, I look up above the synchronised bodies twirling and spinning to look at the band. Baz has stolen some poor bloke's fiddle and is playing the liveliest song I've ever heard. The crowd claps him on. He looks so bloody good up there - cocky smile, intense concentration and flying arm. I point him out to Agatha and she flushes scarlet. (I'm not sure I like that, though I don't know why…)

She asks if Baz is available and I tell her he's with me.

The dance changes and then we're all swapping partners. I spin clumsily into the arms of countless women and men, and notice distractedly that Baz has stopped playing and is whirling around on the dancefloor too. As the night breaks and stars appear, fireflies fly lazily around above us, combining with the twinkling light of the string lights and making the entire town square shimmer softly golden under the deep navy sky.

The dancing gets faster and faster, I occasionally pass so close to Baz that I can feel his loose hair trace my neck. The fiddle plays impossibly quicker, and the faces of my partners blur as they pass me from one person to the next. As the music draws to a dramatic close, strong grey arms circle waist and lift me up into a spin. On the last note of the song, I look into my newest partner's eyes. Breathless, I notice that they're grey and twinkly, not quite blue or green, but a shade in between that takes my breath away.

I've seen these eyes before.

I know them well.

They're Baz's.

We're so close, I can see every single one of his features. I never noticed that his fangs press ever so slightly onto his lips - just the tiniest bit. His cheekbones are gentle but dramatic. Mouth, ashen and parted. We're both panting, and I can feel his hot breath fanning my face, making my stomach twist. Baz's arms feel very secure around my waist, but loose enough to allow me to move away if I want to.

I don't want to.

We remain fixated on each other for what seems like forever. The fireflies, the stars, the chatter of the town fade away, and all that exists is us. I lean a bit closer. He leans in just a bit more.

Then he blinks and pulls away.

"Come on. It's almost time."

**v**

We meet Penny at the dock. She and Baz confer quietly before making me cover my eyes and leading me along the pier. Penny says,

"Now, open!"

In front of me is a tiny little gondola.

"You two are watching the lanterns from the harbour!"

**Ebb**

Tonight is the eighteenth anniversary of my godson's disappearance. And every day, I wish more and more that he'd come home. When he opened his eyes for the first time, he looked straight at me and smiled. He had his mother's eyes.

I was the last person to ever talk to Lucy, Davey had stormed away to his study. Lucy knew she didn't have long. She made me promise to keep her baby safe, and to look after the kingdom when she was gone. I told her through tears to stop – "_Stop talking like that! You're going to be okay! You've got to hold on for your son!_" – but she just smiled and held her snowflake drawing to her lips. _"Simon, Simon. My rosebud boy._"

Then she closed her eyes and never opened them again.

Davey and I are the only ones that know the baby's name. I would never tell a soul.

Because one day, the prince will find his way back. I'll look into his blue eyes -just like his mother's- and he'll introduce himself as Simon.

And I'll know it's him, I'll know it's my_ godson, _ready to take his place on the throne.

But until then…

I walk out onto the balcony and light a single white lantern, with a single snowflake emblazoned across it. As I push it into the sky, I watch the kingdom below me. The courtyard lights up, hundreds upon hundreds of lanterns lighting and filling the sky. The light trickles downwards and across the land as neighbours light lanterns – shoulder to shoulder - and together they raise them into the night sky. The heavens glow softly golden, thousands of lanterns drifting upwards and outwards, light against the dark night, reaching their way towards the stars.

"Simon," I whisper, a tear tracing my cheek "come home soon."

**Simon**

Baz paddles us out into the harbour and turns us so we face the castle. The boat rocks gently, and the towers of the palace are black against the dark blue sky. I'm excited and scared, but the night is clear and the stars are bright. Tonight is the night when all my dreams come true.

I've decided to give Baz his satchel back, after we see the lanterns. After today, I feel like I can trust him. I don't know when I realised, but somehow, I know he won't run away with the crown and dump me here.

Baz leans back and asks me,

"So, Simon, you ready?"

He called me Simon. I grin like an utter moron.

"Yeah! The Mage would've _never _let me do this, but I've wanted to forever. I've been ready my whole bleeding life, really." I frown. "but, I'm not sure I'm ready for afterwards. Once you've lived your dream, what's left?"

Baz's lips part. His smile is very small.

"I guess you find a new dream."

As I look at my companion, it dawns on me.

Baz.

Baz, Baz, _Baz. _Cheekbones, lips, wit, fangs, sarcasm, eyes, arms, tenderness.

That's my new dream.

I want it all. I want _him. _I want to dance with him again, watch him play the fiddle, bicker with him, all of it. Everything. I want him to kiss me, right now.

All at once, everything is different.

I think I'm in love with Baz.

I think I always have been.

**Baz**

I can't help but stare at Snow. He looks beautiful in the moonlight, his skin glowing silver and his hair shining copper. It's amazing how many colours Simon Snow can be, each one more spectacular than the last. When we danced, I let myself imagine, just for a _moment, _what it might be like to kiss Simon Snow. How could I not? He was looking at me so intensely I thought I might snap, then and there. (When he leaned in it took all my self-control to remind myself that someone like Snow would never want someone like me.) He's looking at me like that again, but this time with confusion. His eyes widen and his pink lips part (mouth breather).

He inhales.

"What's wrong?"

Snow blinks, shakes his head, and smiles at me.

"You know in that _Tangled_ book we read…"

"Yes…"

"How did they describe falling in love, again?"

I think back.

"At last I see the light,

And it's like the fog has lifted.

And at last I see the light,

And it's like the sky is new.

And it's warm and real and bright,

And the world has somehow shifted.

All at once everything is different

Now that I see you."

Snow looks at me thoughtfully.

Then, quietly,

"It really is like that."

He's right.

**Simon**

I manage to tear my gaze away from Baz as I spy a single light climb slowly into the sky. I scramble towards the edge – nearly flipping the boat in the process – and stare as it glows in the night. Slowly, softly, hundreds appear, lifting off and outnumbering all the stars in the sky. From ships, streets, towers and lighthouses, the golden lanterns spill into the inky sky around us. They rise up and up, dancing and swirling as they float towards the heavens and across the harbour.

Every single day trapped inside that tower, every single longing moment as I watched the lights from my tower, all of it was worth it.

They're breathtaking.

I try to capture it all in my brain so I can relive it, when I'm back in my tower, wasting away with the Mage.

This moment, with the water, and Baz, and countless lanterns twisting and floating around us, reflecting in the water and turning the world rose gold.

It's a dream come true.

**Baz**

Before long, the lanterns begin to travel towards us. As they come, the water in the harbour reflects them, and it feels like we're floating in stars. The light is bathed in a red-gold glow, and Simon seems to radiate it. His eyes are full of wonder, and he nearly capsizes us as he leans over and pushes a stranger's lantern into the air.

Forget what I said at the pub, that's not my dream anymore.

My dream is here, with the love of my life, surrounded by so many lanterns they seem like stars.

**Simon**

I turn around and look at Baz, who looks pale gold in the soft light. He holds up two lanterns in front him, sheepishly, and holds one out to me. In return, I spell the satchel visible and offer it to him.

"I have something for you too. I should've given it to you before, but I was just _scared. _And the thing is, I'm not scared anymore. You know what I mean?"

He places a hand on top of the satchel and pushes it away, never once breaking eye contact.

"I'm starting to."

We raise our lanterns into the air together, and watch as they waltz into the sky, two more in an endless expanse of gentle light.

Baz takes my hand.

**Baz**

I take his hand and my pulse thunders. He tears his beautiful eyes away from our stunning surroundings and looks at me with such tenderness that I almost can't breathe.

Simon takes my other hand.

**Simon**

I move closer to Baz. My heart in my throat, I lean forward. He's breathtaking.

And I think he's going to kiss me.

**Baz**

I think I'm going to kiss him. He's so close I can feel his breath tickling my cheek from parted lips. I brush a stray bronze curl from his face and keep my hand against his cheek. He's so warm, the _world _is so warm, and I've never wanted something more.

Simon Snow is the most beautiful, charismatic, clumsy, catastrophic, adorable person I have ever met.

I'm hopelessly in love with him.

And I'm going to kiss him.

**Simon**

Baz's hand moves from my cheek to the back of my neck. He's so cold, and the world is so hot. Slowly, my eyes flutter shut, and we move so close I'm sure he can feel my rapid heartbeat through my chest. I wait for him to close the tiny gap between us.

He doesn't.

**Baz**

Just as I'm about to kiss him - just as I'm about to kiss _Simon Snow - _I see two figures on the bank, cloaked in fog. One cracking his knuckles, the other spinning a dagger.

_Dev and Niall._

If they've come for the crown, they can have it.

But they won't lay a _finger _on Simon.

**Simon**

"Is everything okay?" I whisper.

My eyes open slowly, and I see Baz's angular face inches from mine, steely eyes glowering over my shoulder.

"Everything is fine. I just need to…do something."

Once Baz paddles us to the misty bank he jumps out and grabs his satchel. With the crown inside. Leaving me alone.

"I'll be right back." He promises.

"…okay."

**Baz**

I really mean it. A few days ago, I would've taken off with the crown and left Snow to find his own way back. But I couldn't now, not even if I wanted to. If giving away the crown means I can get Simon far away from danger, so be it. Anything to keep him safe.

When I round the corner, I see Dev, spinning that infernal dagger on his finger. I throw the satchel at his feet.

"Look, Dev, mate, I know I've been an utter arse in the past, but here it is. Take the crown, I don't want it."

He knits his dark eyebrows.

"Is that because you've found something better, Pitch?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The most powerful mage in our history, who can push his magic into other people."

"If you touch a _hair _on his head –"

"There are a lot of people out there, Baz, who would pay handsomely for your lover-boy's magic. He's worth _so much more _than a crown…"

Dev kicks the satchel to the side.

"If you _so much _as _touch _Simon," I spit " I will _personally_ rip off your–"

The world goes dark.

**Simon**

I see a tall, athletic silhouette approaching me through the fog. Thank magic, for a moment there I thought I heard raised voices.

"I thought you'd run off and left me!" I tease.

Then the silhouette splits into two people, one short and one tall. Coming closer, I recognise the two blokes from the pub.

"He did."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi friends! This was supposed to be the last chapter - however - it got a little too long, and so this is just the first part. Still, I hope you enjoy it! On another note, Wayward Son cover and blurb?! SO SO SO excited. **

**As always, thanks for all the favourites/follows, and the reviews! Have good weeks!**

**Disclaimer: If you recognise anything, it's probably from Rainbow or Disney.**

Chapter 6: The Lost Prince

My stomach drops.

"No – no he wouldn't."

"See for yourself."

One of the blokes grabs my chin and yanks it so I'm facing the harbour. There, in a small sailboat, is a figure with long hair and sinewy shoulders, looking straight ahead, hands around the wheel.

And holding a crown.

"Baz! BAZ!"

He doesn't even look back.

The red-haired thug speaks.

"Fair trade. The crown for the boy whose magic can be…_acquired_."

The way he purrs 'acquired' makes my stomach turn and throat close up. My eyes prickle with tears that feel as scalding as boiled water.

"How much do you think someone would pay for their own magic generator?"

"No…no, please."

Panic claws at my ribs. My hands and eyes get hotter. I smell smoke.

One of them runs a finger down my cheek, then quickly pops it in his mouth.

"Damn, he's burning up."

Sparks crackle in the air around me. The two look at each other and try to force a sack over my head. The moment it touches my me it catches on fire and disintegrates. Everything around me is red. The darker one swears and tries to hit me. I glare at him and I feel the hairs on my arm stand up just before lightning strikes his hand, stopping it inches from my cheek.

I know this feeling.

I'm out of control, I'm an electrical fire. Sparking, crackling, burning.

Baz knew how to calm me down.

_He's gone._

The Mage knew how to subdue me.

_I pushed him away. _

There's nothing stopping me now.

**The Mage**

Simon screams – a bone rattling scream - and I shield my eyes. Still – I feel his magic explode and send shockwaves through the rocky beach. A piece of driftwood next to me bursts into flame. When I open my eyes, there he is. Laying in the middle of a pebbled crater, sea water spraying in through the dent in the beach and soaking him. He lies unmoving, scorched and exhausted. Dev and Niall are slumped against a boulder - half in the ocean - no doubt blown there by the sheer force of Simon going off. Simon gets up and whimpers.

He's defenceless, and he'll come _running _back to me.

**Simon**

After I went off, the Mage found me. He forgave me for running away and spelled us right back home. I went with him willingly. What choice did I have? Everything that kept me from coming home was gone. The Mage was right, the tower is the only safe place for someone like me.

After I wash off the ash and get changed into clothes that _aren't _blackened and wet, I just stand in front of the mirror. I don't recognise the person standing there. He looks older, tanner, and his hair is a ruddy _mess_ but most of all - he looks tired. Defeated. Especially his eyes, they're…

Blue. Very blue.

As blue as the stained-glass prince's eyes. As blue as the old Queen's eyes.

I look down at my hand. The henna snowflakes look back at me cryptically.

Snowflakes. Snow. _Simon Snow. _

I race over to my laundry basket and pull out the trousers I was wearing at the festival, rummaging through the pockets. I pull it out, the flag that Baz bought me. It's singed around the edges, but that doesn't matter. It's still blue and bronze.

Blue and bronze and snow.

Just like me.

Images and phrases scream at me from inside my own head.

_"…__until the baby was born and Queen Lucy passed away not half an hour later. The strange part was that the baby was coming along easily until the middle of the second trimester. People think Davey did some shady rituals in secret, to make the baby even more powerful than he was_…_"_

_Lanterns on my birthday, to bring the prince home…_

_A stained-glass window, with a baby that looked like me…_

It can't be. It _has _to be.

I am Simon Snow,

and _I _am the lost prince.

**v**

"Father."

The Mage stops what he's doing.

"You will refer to me as _sir._"

"But you are my father, aren't you? _Davey Salisbury."_

He whips around and grabs me by the collar, pinning me to the wall. I snarl, shoving him with my shoulders, and he stumbles backwards.

"Don't touch me."

"What are you going to do to me Simon, go off? You can't fight me, so just sit down and we can talk."

"Why? So, we can _chat_ about how you killed _my_ mother, Baz's mother, _and_ ruined my life? I didn't leave this bloody place for _eighteen years _because of the powers _you _gave me, the powers _you _said would make me a target. And you want to _talk."_

We circle each other like lions.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Your mother was weak, and you are too. Both of you, too fragile to _properly _handle the gift I gave you. Your mother died because of it, _don't_ make her mistake. As for the Pitch brat, his mother got in my way- "

"Don't you _dare _speak like that about Mrs Pitch, or Baz, or _my mother." _I bark_ "_It was your demented ego that ruined theirs - and my - life in the first place!"

"You wouldn't understand. I'm a _revolutionary. _All I'm trying to do is create a higher power to save us all. I thought that my blood and Lucy's royal blood mixed with ancient magic would create a mage to save us all. But instead, I got _you." _His eyes are slits._ "_And you were all wrong. Weak, blundering, oblivious." His voice softens. "It's not your fault."

I glower at him.

"People have _died._"

He laughs frigidly.

"That's what people do best."

_He's a psychopath. _

"So that's all they were, then. Stepping stones." _You killed them_.

"Simon, Simon. It's not my fault they weren't cut out for revolution. _See_? You're looking at this the wrong way." He smiles at me like I'm a child again. "If I hadn't killed them, they would have perished in my new world. It was kinder this way."

I shake my head. "You're _insane."_

He scrunches his mouth up. "No, I'm just a visionary, surrounded by pathetic little people who can't see the future - _my _future."

I can't believe it.

I pull out my wand.

"If only my mother had survived, and you had died instead."

The Mage – Father, I guess, (No, he doesn't deserve that) – lifts his wand and his upper lip.

"That filthy vampire has had an effect on you, Simon."

"This isn't about Baz! This is about me. This is about you _kidnapping me _and trapping me here for _eighteen years."_

"If it wasn't me, someone else would have stolen you. Why do you keep trying to make me a villain? Your powers are too valuable, and you would've _never _been able to defend yourself. Consider yourself lucky."

"_You _saved me? You're a deranged."

"Just because your simple mind can't understand something doesn't make it impossible."

"So that's it then. Am I too _weak _and _pathetic _to live? Are you going to kill _me _too?"

"Of course not. At least, not until I've taken all your magic." He points his wand at me.

"Give it to me, Simon. Give it _all _to me."

**Baz**

I wake up tied to the wheel of a ship, crown in my hand. Blearily, I recognise the palace's personal docks. _The palace's personal docks._ Hostile guards glower at me suspiciously before ripping away my bonds and retying my wrists behind my back.

_Simon._ I've left him alone with those brutes, he's in _danger_. I spy Penelope's horrified face near the edge of the dock (She must be leading this battalion). I lunge at her and manage to shout,

"Please! Please Bunce, _they have Simon. _I don't care _what _they do to me, just help Si-"

The soldiers gag me and lead me away.

Through the corner of my eye I see Bunce nod once, barely.

She _has_ to save him.

**v**

I sit alone in my cell. Alone with my thoughts. I suppose these will be my last thoughts - I ought to make them poignant - but all I'm thinking about is Simon. The bloody prat has turned me into a sentimental fool, but I don't care. As long as Penny saves him.

Men wearing palace uniforms and grave expressions open up my cell door.

"It's time."

One of them – a young one - motions to his neck, and I gingerly rub my own.

"Oh."

Hanging it is, then.

**v**

They push me down a stone corridor flanked by more cells. I feel more panicked than I thought I would, to be honest. I always thought I would welcome death like an old friend, but I'm damn-well terrified.

Two familiar faces peer between bars, the faces of my former friends_. How did they get here?_ If they're here, where is Snow?

Something doesn't add up. I shove the two soldiers escorting me and send them flying (Vampire strength), then reach between the bars and pull Dev by the collar so his face is pressed up against the metal. Hard.

"How did you know about him?!"

He squirms under my grip.

"It wasn't us! It was that old chap, the Mage!"

I'm pulled back by the waist.

_"…__You know, the Mage warned me about criminals like you…"_

_"…__We've been walking for hours, and all he's talked about is that his absence is going to break The Mage's heart (whomever that is) …"_

_"…__The Mage would've never let me do this…"_

He's been tricked. We've all been tricked. Snow probably thinks he's safe with this Mage bloke, but really, it's just someone else who wants to use him for his magic. If this maniac is willing to use criminals to capture Simon, he can't to be trusted.

Someone has got his hands on Simon Snow and I _will not _stand for it.

**v**

As I'm dragged, yelling and kicking, towards the noose, we pass a hallway full of nooks in the wall. In one of them, a brass mug. The mug I drank out of at the vampire bar, in fact. Before I can even begin to ponder what it's doing there, the doors in front of us and behind us slam shut. A barred shutter in the door ahead flies open. An extremely old and astonishingly drunk vampire grins through it.

"What's the password?"

The guard leading our morbid party frowns.

"What?!"

"Nope!"

The soldier bangs on the door.

"Open! This! Door!"

The face through the hole glares disappointedly.

"Not even _close._"

"YOU HAVE THREE SECONDS," the soldier roars,

"ONE!"

A bald man appears out of nowhere and sinks his teeth into the escort on my left's neck pulling him into a previously closed door.

"TWO!"

The escort on my right is attacked silently by a woman with tattoos covering her entire face and pulled into another newly open door.

"THREE!"

The head man turns around and sees me on my own. I raise a single eyebrow.

Behind him, a mammoth of a vampire hits the final guard over the head and slings him over his shoulder.

Before I have time to thank him, I'm also slung over the giant's shoulder and he takes off running towards the ramparts. (_Not _a method of travel I would recommend.)

Once we get there, I'm dumped at the feet of Simon's hooked friend. I stand up quickly and brush off my shoulders.

"I'm thankful and all, but _seriously, _that was awful. And I'm _covered _in someone else's sweat - this is _disGUST- " _

The vampire plucks me right off my feet (once again) and bloody _throws _me over the outer wall. Shit, this _has_ to be _the worst _morning of my life.

While I flail in the air, I hear someone under me shout,

"**Light as a feather!**"

Immediately, I slow and float down onto the cobbled streets outside Watford Palace. There, in front of me, is the smug face of Penelope Bunce. Bloody Bunce.

"Simon – save, vampires," I splutter indignantly, "Threw me!"

"I believe the words you're looking for are 'Thank you Penelope for saving my life!'"

"I-," I look down. "Thank you, Bunce."

"Alright, now let's go save Si- "

"No, I mean it." I scuff my shoe on the stones. "I mean, we've never really seen eye to eye, but you're a really good – ah - "

She huffs exasperatedly.

"For God's sake Baz, I don't want a blooming love letter, let's go!"

I grin.

"Thank magic, I _really_ didn't want to go on."

She mutters something under her breath as I sling one arm around her waist and with the other take out my wand. Holding it skywards I roar,

"**On love's light wings!**"

(It's a hard spell and an old spell, and it works only if you understand the Great Vowel Shift of the Sixteenth Century - and if you're stupidly in love.)

**v**

We land outside the tower, Penny stays behind in case we need a speedy exit. The windows all glow unnatural colours. I stare up at the window ledge, far, far up.

"SIMON!"

**Simon**

The Mage fires another spell at me. This time it's an **I want it all, and I want it now**, and I manage to deflect it with an **Absolutely not! **It's getting harder and harder, all this duelling. I'm trying not to go off, If I do he'll catch me defenceless and it'll all be over. But if he takes my magic…he would use it to conquer the world. I wonder - for the thousandth time – why I had to be the unlucky sod burdened with this magic. I can barely spell, I'm unpredictable, I don't even want it. But I'll carry on, just to keep the Mage from taking it. Another spell, another close dodge, something's got to give. We hear someone at the base of the tower.

"SIMON!"

While I'm caught unawares, the Mage runs to the window and points his wand at the ground. In an instant, Baz – _Baz _– is flown up to the window, trapped in a cage of green lightning. The bars open. The Mage grabs Baz out and drops his wand, pulling his dagger out of his clothes instead. No, no, _no. _He holds it to Baz's neck and grins menacingly.

"Now Simon, we're in a bit of a moral pickle here," I feel my electric charge in the air. The scent of smoke floods my nostrils. No one threatens Baz. _No one threatens my Baz and lives to tell the tale._

The Mage continues.

"I don't _want _to hurt your good-for-nothing vampire boyfriend, but if you don't give me your magic, I will be _forced _to slit his throat. There's really nothing I can do." He feigns sympathy.

I won't let him take Baz. I won't let him take my magic either. And it's all I can do now to stop going off. There's only one thing I can do.

"Take me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Take me instead. I'll do whatever you want. I'll be a secret weapon," (I can minimize the damage as much as possible) "I'll do anything you want me to do. Just let him _go."_

Baz gasps, then flinches as a single drop of thin blood trickles from the blade to his collar.

"Simon _no. _I won't let you, _I won't."_

The Mage hisses at him, then looks at me with newfound curiosity.

"I told you, you're _broken. _But you do go off spectacularly, you're practically a bomb… and the broken ones are so much easier to control." He nods emphatically, eyes wide and crazed. "But… then again, you could rise up against me!" He leers at me accusingly. "That was your plan, wasn't it?! To let me trust you, then stab me in the back and take over my regime! Clever, clever, very clever. Everyone wants a piece of the power.

"I'm going to have to decline your offer, Simon. If I can't have your magic, NO ONE CAN."

And with that, he takes the dagger from Baz's neck and hurls it at me.

**A/N: I'm sorry.**


	7. Chapter 7

**The end, my friends! This is my first fic, so any feedback/reviews are greatly appreciated (also, any prompts, reccomendations or questions). As always, THE BIGGEST THANK YOU TO PEOPLE WHO FAVOURITED, FOLLOWED OR COMMENTED, YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST. **

**On a side note, maybe don't listen to a sad song whilst reading this, because I listened to some sad stuff writing it and it. was. not. good. Anyways, thank you all for reading this. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing at all. All credit to Disney and Rainbow Rowell.**

Chapter 7: The End

**Simon **

Death is something I tried not to think about. Yet here it is, staring me in the face. Fear turns my blood to ice. My heart is beating faster than it ever has before.

It won't be beating for much longer.

I wait for the impact. I wait to feel the blade pierce my clothes, my skin, my heart.

I wait.

And wait.

But it never comes.

Because Baz, brave, beautiful, _moronic _Baz rips out of the Mage's hold and rams me out of the way, onto the ground - a split second before I would've been killed.

The dagger imbeds itself in his stomach.

"No." the sound barely escapes my lips.

He slumps to the ground against the wall and smiles smugly at the Mage, triumphant.

"NO!"

I scramble over to him. His expression turns soft. The look he reserves for _only_ me.

"You IDIOT! You – you shouldn't – I didn't want you to -… Baz I'm _sorry._"

I'm dimly aware of a golden light encircling us, and the Mage pounding on it, but I hardly care.

_Baz is dying. _

"Simon, ssssh. Just shut up for thirty seconds, would you?" Despite his words, his voice is tender and quiet. He strokes my cheek slowly, and his eyes search mine. "Simon, can I ask you something?"

I choke back a sob, but tears stream down my face and onto his hand anyway. I nod.

"Would you hold me…while I die?"

This time I can't supress whimper.

"Of course I will, you _twit."_

He laughs softly and leans his head against my shoulder. We turn our heads to look at each other, almost nose to nose. His icy thumb still strokes my cheekbone. We're both covered in my tears and his blood.

"Don't be sad," he whispers. "I was dead anyway, from the moment I was Turned. Nothing's lost."

"_No. _Something is definitely lost, _you're lost. _And you are_ not _dead, okay?" I stroke away a piece of hair from his face and then hold it behind his ear. "Baz, please don't die."

"Simon, I'd do it again. All of it. From the moment I met you to right here, dying for you."

He stumbles through laboured breaths.

"Simon Snow, I'm in love you."

The world explodes and implodes simultaneously. He loves me. _He's dying. _I'll save him. _Can I? _I need kiss him. _I do. _

My lips slide against onto his.

I kiss him like it's the beginning and the end. Because it is.

He kisses me like it's the only thing that will keep him alive, like he's been waiting for it his whole life. It's glorious, it's bitter, hot and cold – his mouth is _so cold _and his blood is _so warm. _I pull away before I would have liked to. Baz is running out of time. Placing my hands on his wound, I push all the magic I have into him. The crimson stain on his stomach glows, then begins to seal. I smile through tears. _It's going to be okay. _

Then Baz lifts his wand and points it straight at the Mage.

"**This one's for you!**"

Immediately I feel all the magic I gave him disappear. I seem to have accidentally created some sort of shield around us before, like the opposite of going off. Protecting instead of harming. Because I'm in love. But the boy I love is slipping through my fingers, and I can't imagine my future without him.

The shield is fractured where the Mage pounded his fists on it. Now it's punctured inside-out by a steady stream of bronze and blue and _burning_ magic coursing from Baz's heart to the Mage's. Eventually, even the shield is sucked into the Mage's chest. I feel like a weight the size of this tower has been lifted from my shoulders. The Mage looks like he's trying to support fifty towers on his back. He hunches over and his eyes glow like suns, casting his face in a ghoulish light.

"Too much…" he rasps "I can't…"

Beams of light pierce through his body, from the inside out, and he howls.

Then he explodes in a flash of blinding light.

And when I open my eyes, Baz and the Mage are both dead.

**Penny**

I watch from the base of the tower. Baz was transported up to the window a while ago. _It was probably just Simon. _The thought doesn't calm my nerves the way I want it to. _Baz is a vampire for magic's sake, and Simon is the most powerful mage in history. They're fine. _I repeat it in my head like a mantra. _They're fine, they're fine, they're fine._

Then the inside of the tower explodes with white-gold light, a lighthouse in the setting sun. It lessens in intensity, and white dust flies through the air. It smells like ash and burning meat. _They're fine, they're fine, they're fine. _

A sharp howl pierces the silence.

Simon.

_They're not fine._

I **Up, up and away! **myself through the open window. In front of me is a bundle of forest-green robes and white dust, with a wand and a dagger resting on top.

"Penny!"

Simon kneels on the floor, stroking something on his lap. As I get closer, my stomach drops. It's Baz's lifeless face. His hair is curled through Simon's fingers, and his head rests against Simon's knee. For once, he looks care-free. I sit down and lean against my grieving friend.

"He did it Penny. I gave him all my magic, all of it, and he gave it to the Mage. It was too much, the Mage exploded. And when I opened my eyes, he was- he was- he-."

Sobs rack his body. A tear runs down my own cheek.

It's silent for what feels like forever.

"Are you okay?"

Simon shakes his head.

"I'm all… empty." He bows his head and shudders, tears staining Baz's eyelids. "And it's not because I've lost my magic."

"You loved him, didn't you?"

He traces Baz's parted lips with his thumb.

"Yeah. Yeah I really did."

**Simon**

My vision is blurred by a thousand tears, so I close my eyes instead. It's not any better. Memories of Baz flit through my mind.

Hands on mine when I thought I was going to go off.

Cackling when that rabbit jumped out of the bush.

Holding me when the water filled the cavern.

Complaining about wet clothes.

Refusing to keep my magic, insisting it was stealing.

Smiling reluctantly, aristocratic features coated in blue frosting.

The sound of the fiddle when he played.

The two of us on the boat together, surrounded by a million floating lights.

The moment I realised I loved him.

For some _stupid_ reason I remember the library the most, when he read me fairy tales. He scoffed the most at Snow White and Sleeping Beauty because:

_"__Seriously, true love's kiss? What kind of cop-out is that? _Every _single story seems to end with it, it's unbelievable."_

_I laugh. _

_"__Sounds romantic to me."_

_He sneers, but there's no menace in it. _

_"__And that, Snow, is because you're a moron."_

True love's kiss seemed to be in every one.

Wait.

"Penny, what makes a phrase a spell?"

She looks at me curiously.

"When it's used often enough, I guess."

"So, would phrases from folk tales work?"

She narrows her eyes.

"Which phrase?"

"True love's kiss! If it can bring comatose princesses back to life, why not Baz?" (If this works, I'm never telling Baz I called him a princess.)

Penny blinks a couple of times, then nods slowly.

"Usually you'd need to be a prince to wake someone with true love's kiss, but we could try-"

"Actually Penny, that won't be a problem."

Penny furrows her brow, and then her eyes widen. It's almost comic. I would laugh if I didn't think my heart was both breaking and ready to burst.

"You're the lost prince?"

I nod, once.

"We could try. I'd have to spell a **Simon Says, **and then you'd have to say **True love's kiss, **but it could definitely work…," She twists the ring on her finger. "Are you absolutely sure he's your true love?"

"I've never been surer about anything in my life."

**Baz**

Tendrils of sleep and exhaustion curl around my eyes, dragging me into oblivion, where it's dark and comfortable. I'm _so tired_, and my body is _so heavy_. Yet, something against my lips keeps me going.

Someone against my lips, rather.

Simon Snow is kissing me. Again.

(How could I forget? The memory is practically seared into my mind.)

I bring my hand up and rest it on his shoulder.

He pulls away (unfortunately) as I open my eyes. Penny breathes a sigh of relief and Simon beams. Before I can even comprehend that I _literally just died _and was _brought back to life, _by the _love of my life, _I'm smothered in hugs and tears from both Snow and Penelope.

"Damn, Baz, you scared us." Bunce whispers in my ear.

**Simon**

Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch is a miracle.

So many things are going to happen soon. The Mage's story will need to be told. My mother's story will need to be told. Penny's, Baz's, and even mine, _all_ our stories will need to be told. But that's not the end. After that I'll need to go back to the palace and claim the throne. And then – Shit, I don't even know what happens after that. But none of it matters, really. Because right now –_ right now – _Baz, who I happen to be completely in love with, just opened his eyes.

His eyes make everything else fade away. Just a second ago, I thought my life was over. And moments before that, I thought my life was over in a different way. Everything was awful, and everything was inescapable. My enslavement, The Mage's regime, my death, Baz's death, all of it happened so quickly that it seems like a lifetime in only a few minutes.

But I do what I do best. I don't think about all that. _None of it matters_. Because Baz is -miraculously – alive. And I have the rest of my life to drown in those eyes the colour of thunderclouds.

**Baz**

Snow takes me by the shoulders and looks at me with so much unbridled, tearful joy that it takes my breath away. His hand moves up to my face and traces my cheek. I swoon. (Really, how could I not? He's beautiful)(Also, he just saved my life).

Bunce coughs awkwardly.

"_Your Majesty_, I'll be waiting outside."

Simon lets go of me and winces.

"Please, Penny, don't ever call me that again."

"Thank magic. That was very strange." Then she fixes Snow with a wicked grin, "Careful Simon. Baz's been besotted with you since I met him, too much snogging might put him into cardiac arrest. _Plus, _it would totally nullify bringing him back."

(I'm going to kill Bunce)

But then Snow and I are alone. He wraps me up in his tawny arms and buries his head in my neck. I hug him back gingerly. I feel his breath against my skin.

"Don't you _ever _do that again, you prat."

"Next time I'm on my deathbed I'll remember that, idiot."

"Tosser." He mumbles. "You're okay?"

"But of course. I'm with you, aren't I?"

He snorts and smirks at the same time, which – combined with the look of utter relief on his face – makes him look even more endearing than usual.

"You're a romantic twat, you know that, don't you?" he mutters, face edging closer.

"Corny?" my eyes fix on his lips.

"Yeah. Yeah it was."

And then he kisses me again.

**Simon**

When we finally break apart, Baz frowns at me.

"How did you bring me back to life _and _heal my stab wound?"

I grin.

"You won't believe it."

His eyes narrow. I lean in close, so our noses are touching, and laugh.

"True love's kiss."

His eyes widen in horror.

"You've _got _to be kidding me."

**~A few days later~**

**Ebb**

I came as soon as I was told. To the balcony. Where a young lad and his companion are waiting for me.

When I see them, I can tell who he is immediately. I run to him and take his face gently in my hands. His eyes are just like Lucy's. Otherwise, he looks just like Davy, but not as harsh. He's just like I thought he'd be, and so much more.

"What's your name, boy?"

He bites his lip, and takes the hand of the boy behind him.

"Simon Snow."

Simon Snow. Of course. Lucy's snowflake was a clue all along.

My heart seems to finally beat again after eighteen long years. I embrace him and he hugs me back, just as hard.

"I'm your godmother, Simon, Queen Ebeneza. But you just call me Ebb, alright?"

He's quite a bit taller than me, so I have to reach to place my crown on his head.

"And you, Simon, are King."

He inhales sharply, and I hug him again.

"Don't worry, you're not on your own." I look over at his friend, who gazes at him with both love and awe. "It seems you'll have this handsome young gentleman at your side."

Simon beams and takes the boy's hand again.

"This is Tyrannus Basilton Grimm Pitch – Baz – and he's my boyfriend!"

I smile at them both. They look perfectly content with each other, and despite only just meeting Simon, I feel like I proud parent.

"Well, come here, then!" And I hug them both.

**~One year later~**

**Simon**

I race past guests as best as I can in these huge formal robes. (It's practically a wedding dress, it's got about a hundred different layers.) (I manage to shed most of them as I run though, and not long after I've only got my undershirt, a blue cloak, my crown and slacks.) It seems like half the kingdom is gathered in the lavish hallways and ballrooms of the palace. _And yet not the one person I'm looking for._

Finally, I spot him as he walks around a corner and onto a secluded balcony.

Baz looks bloody fantastic tonight. Everything about that dark green suit is damn good.

Behind him, the entire kingdom is lit up, lanterns bobbing in the sky. Lanterns of celebration this time. It's my coronation. I walk onto the balcony and wrap my arms around his waist from behind.

Baz snorts.

"_King_ Simon Snow Salisbury, what brings you here?"

I roll my eyes and rest my chin on his shoulder.

"Just because I've been coronated doesn't mean you have to spell out the entire title every time I walk into a room."

He laughs. He does that a lot lately. Letting go of him, I walk towards the edge and lean against the fancy stone rail, overlooking the streets.

_My kingdom. _

Baz leans forward next to me. Our shoulders press against each other.

"So, what are you going to do now?" he asks.

I've thought about it constantly for about six months now, but I try to act nonchalant.

"Be king I suppose. Ebb is still mentoring me, but she says I'm ready. I promoted Penny to Field Marshal last month. Crime rates have already dropped. Too bad there's one thief I can't seem to lose."

Baz laughs again. True to character, I hadn't even noticed that he'd nabbed my crown. It looks unfairly attractive on him, but I snatch it back anyway.

"Problem is," I continue, "I'm new to the kingdom. _And_ this whole…royalty thing. I need someone at my side, a partner – so to speak – to help me run the kingdom."

Baz raises his eyebrows. I nudge him with my shoulder.

"Someone who's grown up here, and knows most of the court, who's – preferably – absolutely smitten with me."

Baz scoffs and turns to face me. I grin at him.

"In fact, I was thinking _you _would be the _perfect _candidate."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah! In fact…"

Heart in my throat, I drop to one knee and fish a box out of my robe's pockets. I look up at him.

"Simon…" he mutters, blinking furiously. (Does that mean he's going to cry? Are you supposed to cry when someone does this? Does it mean he's unhappy or really happy? Ugh, _relax, relax, relax_)

"Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch – Baz – will you marry me?"

He doesn't speak for a moment, just stares at me. My confidence shatters.

Then, after an awkward eternity,

"Yes! _Aleister Crowley_, Yes!"

Relief and a bunch of other emotions I've never felt before clog my throat. (I think I might cry) (Happy tears though.) He beams, fangs pressing hard into his lips.

He pulls me up to my feet and throws his arms around my neck. Then he pulls back just as suddenly and punches my chest gently.

"Merlin and Morgana…" he reaches into his own pocket and pulls out an almost identical box. "You beat me to it, you git!"

We both giggle deliriously. Then we swap boxes and put the rings on each other's fingers. The one I got Baz is a rosy gold, the colour of the lanterns in the sky. Mine is the colour of the setting sun, the colour of our first kiss.

We look out at the view before us, clasping hands. I take his hand and kiss it.

The lights, the lanterns, the bands on our fingers, everything is golden.

**v**

_And so, Simon began his new life as King, with everyone he loved by his side, and his mother watching him from the heavens. Boy became Prince, Prince became King, and King became legend. Davy Salisbury, Queen Lucy, Natasha Grimm-Pitch, Queen Ebb, Penelope Bunce, Basilton Grimm-Pitch, King Simon Snow, _

_This is their story._


End file.
